Branch of Peace
by RanMouri82
Summary: After school, Frisk says something alarming. Toriel swallows her pride and disgust to ask Asgore about it. Band-Aids don't fix bullet holes, but life can still be merciful. Post-Pacifist.


**Title:** Branch of Peace

 **Author:** RanMouri82

 **Rating:** PG

 **Disclaimer:** Toby Fox owns Undertale. I own my fangirling.

 **Notes:** Band-Aids don't fix bullet holes, but life can still be merciful. Post-Pacifist [Published 2/23/2016]

 _Branch of Peace_

"Shake it off, shake it off, I, I, I shake it off!"

A single row of little monsters and humans shook and wiggled their costumed, salt and pepper shaker bodies with all their might and danced across the waxed auditorium stage beneath gelled light. As soon as they bounced into a V formation, Frisk and Monster Kid leaped forward and did a head-spinning break dance while the rest gave a sassy rendition of Taylor Swift's spoken bridge. As a chorus, the children were slightly off-key, but they more than made up for it in exuberance.

'Thanks to Napstablook's clever remix and Mettaton's choreography,' Toriel thought, as she beamed with pride over her pupils' dress rehearsal, 'our first concert is sure to be a success!'

When the song finished and all the children struck superhero poses, Toriel clapped and shouted, "Wonderful! That will be all for tonight, dear children. Now go home and get plenty of rest before the big day."

The group cheered as Frisk tapped the top of Monster Kid's pepper shaker costume in a hybrid of a pet and a high five. Taking the cue to leave, a bunny waddled offstage beside his red-headed, freckled human friend and twin sister, chattering excitedly about how many flyers were posted around town.

At that moment, however, Toriel felt distant eyes on her. She clenched a fist. "Do you not have any work left, Dreemurr?"

"Er, y-yes," Asgore replied from the double doors in the rear of the auditorium. Dozens of red, cushioned seats lined either side and a long rug cut between them. Asgore's voice rumbled in a deep stammer. "I'm going right now."

Toriel waited until Asgore's footsteps faded and the double doors clicked shut behind him before turning around. Though she was willing to tolerate the whelp's presence, she did not want her students to hear any of the curses she longed to mutter under her breath. Thankfully, all she saw was the digital clock above the closed doors reading 6:00.

Six human children...

Shaking those dark memories from her head, Toriel brushed her hands on her dress and gave Frisk her best smile as they hopped offstage, pulled off their salt shaker cap, and trotted to her side. Their expression was blank, so Toriel said, "Why don't you go backstage to put away your costume? Then, we can walk home and have dinner, and—"

"Please try to be his friend."

Toriel blinked, stunned. Looking down at Frisk, she sought the mystery behind their squinted eyes.

"I know it's hard, but please try to be friends with Asgore," Frisk said, tugging Toriel's wool skirt.

"My child," Toriel said, ruffling Frisk's bangs, "There are some problems adults have that can be very difficult to understand." She glanced away. There was no way she could begin to explain the shudder of rage that crept inside her when she so much as thought of the man she once loved with all her soul. "I know you mean well, but please, do not ask me for this."

"I'm not saying to be mushier than Dogaressa," Frisk said, pouting and puffing their cheeks, "but can't you try to be nice? He's trying!"

"'Band-Aids don't fix bullet holes'," Toriel replied, smoothing their hair. "After all, back in the castle, he came this close to—"

"No. If you didn't come when you did..." Frisk trailed off, shaking their head, but then looked up at Toriel, solemn. "Asgore would be dead."

Toriel gasped. Deja vu struck her and made a sick dread fill her stomach. "What do you mean?"

With a weak, sad smile, Frisk said, "Thank you for saving us."

Toriel suppressed the trembling in her fingers. Of course, Frisk's claim was impossible, but...

"Yo, you going home or what?" Monster Kid shouted from the stage's wings before they scooted down the side steps and dashed toward Frisk.

With a nervous giggle, Toriel shook her head and said, "Yes, it is getting late, isn't it? Frisk, why don't you go change? I will meet you outside."

After nodding at Toriel in agreement, Frisk turned to wave goodbye to Monster Kid, saying, "See you tomorrow!"

"Cool! See ya!" Monster Kid ran faster than their legs could take them, fell forward on their face, scooped themselves upright, and then raced out the door.

Frisk ran in the opposite direction, cap in hand, and within a minute disappeared backstage, leaving Toriel alone to ponder her unanswered question. When the child's small figure and head of tousled brown hair disappeared behind the curtain, Toriel took slow, pensive steps through the double doors and into the corridor.

Brick walls lined the hallway, their simple beige color showing off neon bulletin boards and the newest addition of a glass case for team awards. Toriel paused to glance at the golden cup the Science Club won last week in the Astronomy Bowl. Of course they won first prize; more than half of them were monsters who marveled at the stars and planets they could finally see. Reaching the main staircase, Toriel closed her eyes for a moment, swallowed, and then stepped outside.

Dusk settled in pale orange, warming the treetops as the first stars appeared in the darkening sky. Quiet settled over the schoolyard. A short distance away, close to the school's toolshed, Asgore clipped away at an enormous hedge. Unlike the one modeled after Papyrus, it was shaped like a wide oval. Toriel forced her feet to walk toward her ex-husband and resisted the urge to pound her disdain on the pavement.

When Toriel reached the leafy hedge, she frowned. Either Asgore failed to notice her or he pretended so. She coughed. Still nothing. Was he offended about earlier? 'Hmph, as if he deserves—'

Stepping forward, Toriel stubbed her toe on a small, brass sign. "Ow!" She grabbed her foot. "Damn—darn it!"

"Oh!" Asgore cried, halting his work as he peered past the branches. He blinked at Toriel. "...Oh."

"I'm fine, thank you," Toriel snapped. Glaring at the offending sign, she saw a torn piece of loose leaf paper taped to its edge and dangling behind it as it flapped in the gentle breeze. Curious, she walked around to where Asgore stood as he shuffled to give her space, but then she blinked at the hedge itself. It was not a simple oval, but the wide, winking face of a skeleton. The sign confirmed Toriel's suspicion: "Sans, brother of The Great Papyrus".

"Pffft!" Toriel clutched her mouth despite herself and chuckled. "What on earth?"

Asgore paused, apparently weighing whether he was allowed to speak, but then he smiled and said, "Obviously, the engraving was Papyrus' idea, but Sans made a last minute addition."

This explained the torn paper. Toriel bent toward the sign, brushing her skirt against the mowed grass while she flipped the paper over. Scrawled in smeared red marker, it read: "-ational".

That did it. Toriel let out a peal of laughter and said, "Guess he intends it to be—pfft!—Sansational!"

"Huh?" Asgore wiped his sweaty brow and, a moment later, joined in laughing. Between coughs, he said, "No wonder he told me to show Papyrus when I'm finished!"

Nodding, Toriel wiped gleeful tears and said, "The poor young man will blow his stack!"

As their chuckles and giggles quieted, Toriel turned away while Asgore shifted on his feet and began trimming long branches above his head to form Sans' eye sockets. Crossing her arms, Toriel sighed. For a moment, she almost forgot why she was so angry.

It felt nice.

Lighter.

"Frisk said something strange just now, and I was wondering if you understood what they meant," Toriel said, dropping her voice low.

Between snips, Asgore said, "Oh, really? What was it?"

Toriel gripped her thin sleeves. "Before I stopped you from fighting them, what happened?"

Asgore jumped, startled, and almost dropped the shears. For a moment, he fell silent. "Nothing...I think."

Refusing to roll her eyes because someone had to be mature here, Toriel huffed and said, "You 'think'? You were there and don't know?"

"Uh, yes," Asgore said, nodding. A pained look crossed his face. Twilight was setting in, and it obscured his eyes in shadow. "I remember asking Frisk to attend to whatever business they wished, which they did. Thankfully, that took awhile."

"Thankfully." Setting her jaw, Toriel scowled. Once upon a time, she thought Asgore had integrity. Now, she thought that even if he once had it, he had long since abandoned it. As much as she itched to scold him again, she took a breath and let him continue.

"I remember fighting the human, though. And killing them. More than once." Asgore lowered his arms. "Of course, that is impossible, but my hands remember it. And..."

A shiver raced up Toriel's spine. "And?"

"And then, in spite of everything, Frisk was alive and showed me mercy. I felt a glimmer of warmth and hope. I thought of our children. It was all a silly dream." Asgore laughed, but it sounded like a tired sigh.

"Then, my body turned to dust."

Toriel froze. She tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. Around the schoolyard, the lamps began to turn on and cast eerie streaks of light.

Asgore scratched behind his horns and laughed. "Never mind my rambling. It makes no sense, so it must be my imagination. Thankfully, you arrived when you did."

Biting her lips, Toriel forced back tears. Maybe, this time, life itself had been merciful. Painful as it was, she looked Asgore in his eyes and nodded. "Thankfully."

"Mom, I'm ready!"

Frisk's distant call echoed on the concrete, followed by their footsteps as they waved, jumped down several steps at a time, and ran across the lawn to Toriel. Tilting their head to the side, they smiled at Asgore and said, "Hi! You want to come over for dinner? There's lots of leftover snail lasagna."

Toriel twitched and glared at Frisk. That child was beyond bold!

"Ah, thank you, but it will take awhile to put my tools away," Asgore replied, grinning sheepishly. "Have a good evening, both of you."

Nodding silently and releasing the tense knot in her stomach with a long breath, Toriel took Frisk by the hand. When Frisk grabbed their backpack and lifted it onto their free shoulder, however, Toriel muttered to Asgore, "If you want, there is butterscotch cinnamon pie in the faculty lounge. Most of it has been eaten, but there might still be a slice left."

"Thank you!" Asgore said, his cheeks glowing. "I tried making it myself many, many times but could never manage."

"Do not get too excited," Toriel said with a sneer. "If we leave it on the counter, a mouse will eventually get it."

Though Frisk snickered as if they were in on a private joke, Toriel ignored it and tugged their soft hand, saying, "It is getting dark, my child. Come along now."

As the pair walked away from the bushes and reached the nearest light pole, however, Asgore cleared his throat and said, "See you tomorrow, Frisk, and Tori—Toriel."

"Good night," Toriel said, her tone curt and her posture firm, "Asgore."

But as Frisk skipped at her side and they reached the front gate, Toriel smiled. Inside, she felt lighter than she had in a very long time. And she was thankful.


End file.
